Doomed for a Certain Term
by SerendipitousP
Summary: Complete and Utter Shakespearean Bullshit. {Three Chapters of Shitpost}
1. Hamlet, Hamlet!

Psychiatrist: Alright, Hamlet is it?

Hamlet: Yes.

P: Hamlet what?

H: *matter-of-factly* Of Denmark.

P: *confused* Of Denmark?

H: Yes.

P: *pause* Are there any prefixes you would like to go by?

H: *thinks* The Tragedy of.

P: *pause* So, The Tragedy of Hamlet of Denmark?

H: *matter-of-factly* Yes.

P: *writes "identity confusion"* So Mr. Tragedy, what seems to be the problem?

H: To be or not to be? That is the question!

P: To be or not to be what? Are you a Shakespeare fan?

H: Who?

P: Never mind, back to the question at hand. To be or not to be what?

H: Dead. Asleep. Passed on like my father has before me. So excellent a king, that was too this Hyperion to a satyr. So loving to my mother that he might not beteem the winds of heaven visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth, must I remember? Why, she would hang on him as if increased appetite had grown by what it fed on, and yet, within a month. Let me not think on't. Frailty, thy name is woman!

P: *is confused*

H: So basically, my dad is dead, my mother is an incestuous harlot, and I want to kill myself.

P: Ah, alright. *writes "suicidal" and "mommy issues"* So, I noticed you said that woman's name is frailty. Could your thoughts of suicide come from the lack of love you received from your mother as a child because she was too dependent on the men in her life?

H: Oh, no. My mother and I have always had a close relationship. Like in Act 5, Scene 1 when she cried "Hamlet, Hamlet!" Such a loving tone a mother would carry for her child.

P: *confused* Act 5, Scene what?

H: *continues on as if Psychologist had not even said anything* Oh, no. Claudius. He was the one who hath corrupted my mother! My father too!

P: You're really opening up Hamlet. I'm glad. We shall pick up on your relationship with your step father next week.


	2. The Lying King (get it)

Psychiatrist: Hello Hamlet. Ready to talk about your family?

Hamlet: I am tame sir. I must say my family is quite the drag.

P: How so? Would you care to elaborate?

H: My life is dying before me. My father died at the hands of my uncle. Who is now my father, technically. He killed him to be king; however, I'm beginning to wonder if all of this is but a dream.

P: You believe your uncle to have murdered your father for the sake of becoming king?

H: Well I would assume so. Who wants a wife named Gertrude?

P: Interesting. *thinks about his own wife, Gertrude. Agrees slightly* How did you come to this realization that your uncle murdered your father?

H: There was a ghost in the night. He told me of this atrocity. About the betrayal

P: *writes down "possible visual and auditory hallucinations"* And you believed this ghost?

H: No, not entirely at first. I staged a play to catch my uncle in the act.

P: A play?

H: Yes. I enacted out the process of the murder and he was there. He showed no sign of remorse for his actions until that point in time. Like a lion he stood brave before the kingdom but he was only a buffoon. He just couldn't wait to be king. And he became lost in power.

P: Have you gone to the police about this... murder?

H: *stands and paces the room* Sir, I cannot! I lack advancement.

P: So, you can't find the courage?

H: *turns sharply* Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you cannot play upon me!

P: There is nothing wrong with seeking help. That's why you've come here isn't it?

H: By and by is easily said! Leave me friends!

P: What friends?

H: *ignores him* When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood-

P: *looks disgusted while writing down "demented, possibly homicidal?"*

H: And do such bitter business as the day would quake to look on. Let me be cruel, not unnatural: My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites; how in my words soever she be shent, to give them seals never, my soul, consent! *storms out of the room with a flourish*

P: So, next week then?


	3. The Fairer Sex

Psychiatrist: So, are we ready to get started? Have any tantrums you'd like to get out of the way first?

Hamlet: No, I believe they are all out of my system. I fear that without Ophelia by my side, I shall have no good reason to throw such a tantrum.

P: Ophelia?

H: What, the fair Ophelia? I loved Ophelia. Forty thousand brothers could not with all their quantity of love make up my sum. But alas, she did not feel the way for me that I felt for her. Refusing to see me, sending back my letters. My parents didn't care enough to betroth me at a young age, we could have been together! But she turned me away. And for what? So she could sew in the closet?

P: Sewing in the closet? Hamlet, did you ever maybe think that-

H: *ignores him* To a nunnery, I told her, go, and quickly too. Farewell. But she didn't care too take my advice. Something about my unmatched form and feature of blown youth blasted with ecstasy.

P: Hamlet, I think you've got it all wrong. It wasn't that she didn't care for you, it's just that she cared more for... the fairer sex.

H: *obviously doesn't get it* What sex is fairer than I?

P: Never mind, it isn't important. So, is there anyone else in your life that you could turn too? A close friend or maybe a family member.

H: *gives Psychologist a condescending look*

P: Probably not a family member.

H: Well, there is one. Horatio, what a wounded name, things standing thus unknown, shall live behind me! If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart absent thee from felicity a while, and in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain to tell my story.

P: Why don't we have Horatio come talk?

H: I suppose. He's out in the hallway.

Horatio: *enters* Hello.

P: Hello, Horatio. I hear you and Hamlet are very close.

Hor: But of course.

P: Are you aware that your friend is suicidal?

Hor: If aught of woe or wonder, cease your search.

P: *takes a few moments to deep read what Horatio is saying* You are two really moody teenagers with really wide vocabulary.

Hor and Ham: *simultaneously* Ay.

P: So, Horatio. How do you plan to support your friend?

Hor: *lifts goblet of poisoned wine to lips*

Ham: Horatio no! As thou'rt a man, give me the cup. Let go! By heaven, I'll have 't! It's poisoned!

P: Where did you get that?

Hor: If Hamlet so chooses to lift the goblet to his lips, I so choose to lift it to mine. *drinks from cup*

Ham: No! *drinks from cup as well*

Hor: Now cracks a noble heart. Good night, sweet prince. *the two men collapse on the floor*

P: ... I THOUGHT I WAS COUNSELING HAMLET NOT JULIET.


End file.
